


It's Been a Hard Day's Night but You Got That Somethin'

by raspberrysundae (ptgreat)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [30]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptgreat/pseuds/raspberrysundae
Summary: Working late yet again, Church's bae arrives to save the day with the best kind of rescue there is, deep fried carbs.





	It's Been a Hard Day's Night but You Got That Somethin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blueberryshortcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/gifts).



> Written for RvB Fluff Week hosted by rvbficwars on Tumblr. Blueberryshortcake asked for late night takeout or late morning breakfast. I wanted to do both scenarios, but well. I ran out of time. Grad school and work are such rude time sucks. I might add late morning breakfast to this at some point when I have the time and energy.
> 
> Title is a mash up of lyrics from Hard Day's Night and I Wanna Hold Your Hand by the Beatles.

Church pulled his glasses off and rested his weight on his elbows, frames dangling from one hand, as he rubbed his eyes. He’d gone over this code and gone over it and gone over it and it was still fucking _wrong_. He leaned back. And smashed his knee into his desk.

“Son of a bitch!”

He nearly toppled his chair, pain radiating through his leg.

“Huh,” Wash leaned against his office door, holding a grease stained paper bag in one hand and a plastic 7-11 bag in the other, “Not really the greeting I was expecting.”

His leg still throbbed but, “Is that takeout from Little Asia?”

“Yeah, that’s more like the greeting I was expecting.”

Wash smiled and pushed off the door, making the short trek to his desk and setting that beautiful, glorious bag of fat and carbs on it. Church opened the bag and inhaled the fumes. Eggrolls and lo mein and Mongolian beef. Church’s mouth watered.

“The only thing that could make this better is—”

Wash plunked a bottle of Baja Blast in front of him. Church stared at the Mountain Dew then up at Wash.

“Fuck, I love you.”

Wash laughed as Church grabbed the front of his t-shirt and tugged him down into a kiss, “I know.”

Church pushed his chair back after he let him go, standing and stretching, while Wash set down the plastic bag, pulling out a Dr. Pepper for himself, and unloaded the food. Church made a face. Geezus. His spine sounded like a pissed off bowl of Rice Krispies. Wash gave him a look, eyes alight and mouth upturning with assholery.

“Should I start calling you my old man?”

“I’m only thirty-two, you dick.”

“A middle-aged guy with a twenty-something? Sounds like a midlife crisis to me.”

“You’re twenty-eight!” Church’s voice cracked “And we’ve been together since before I hit thirty!”

Wash grinned and held out a pair of chop sticks for him, “Alright, alright. I won’t call you daddy.”

Church grabbed them and snapped them apart viciously. Wait.

“Well, I mean. Maybe. We could discuss it.”

“No, no. You’re right. It’s very inappropriate.”

Sitting on the corner of his desk, Wash shoved a mouthful of noodles into his stupid smirking face. Church dunked an eggroll in the sweet and sour sauce and pointed it at Wash, red sauce dripping onto the napkins Wash had laid out instead of the papers he’d previously had piled there.

“Why does everyone think _I’m_ the asshole?” he demanded.

Wash shrugged and leaned in, stealing the saucy bite of his accusatory eggroll, “Because you _are_ an asshole?”

“Wow. Fuck you.”

He stuffed the rest of the eggroll into his mouth.

“You’re my asshole though.”

Church huffed and slouched, while he chewed, warmth spreading in his chest. Wash smiled into his takeout and changed the subject to the ridiculousness he had missed at their last tabletop rpg session.

“That Felix guy is gonna be bad news, mark my words.”

Wash snorted, “Probably. It’s _Isaac_. Oh, that reminds me though. I was talking with Simmons—”

“Wow. Thrilling.”

“Shutup.”

Wash nudged his leg with his foot while he twisted and stretched for the discarded 7-11 bag that was presumably empty, but apparently not. Wash set a neon green rubber duck in front of him.

“I couldn’t find a blue one.”

“Oh…kay…?”

“It’s a rubber duck.”

“Yes. I see that,” he said slowly and very, very nonplussed. “Are we taking a bubble bath?”

Actually…

“To help with the coding. Simmons said this was a programmer thing. You like, I dunno, explain things to the duck and that helps you figure out what’s wrong with it.”

“You want me to talk to a rubber duck.”

Wash looked away flushing, “Nevermind. I’ll give it to Caboose.”

“No,” Church caught his wrist. “I’ll keep it.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“You gave it to me. It’s mine.”

Wash looked at him doubtfully, “If you’re sure…”

“Positive,” he put the duck between his monitor and keyboard. “So what’s the deal with Sam’s dark and mysterious Locus character?”

“Well…”

Eventually, the eggrolls were annihilated and the fortune cookies eaten, by Wash—he strongly believed in finishing the meal “right” while Church believed in not eating stale rejected Yoda quote containers. Sometimes he still twitched when Caboose ate his cookie first. They cleaned up, compacting the trash into one bag and raiding Church’s moist towelette stash, something he’d started hoarding ever since Tucker’s kid got to the jam hands stage of life.

“I’ll see you at home?” Wash asked, knotting the plastic bag closed.

“At some point.”

“Try not to burst a vein.”

“No promises.”

Wash kissed his cheek, then his mouth. Church closed his eyes.

“Love you,” Wash murmured against his lips.

“Mm, I know.”

Wash smiled, gave him another peck for good measure then left. Church watched him go, then watched the door, then stared at that stupid fucking code. Ugh. He was supposed to be at home. On his nice warm couch or his nice warm bed, with his nice warm boyfriend. He dug his hands into his hair.

“Fuuuuck.”

He caught a glimpse of bright green in his peripheral and looked down at the dorky little duck Wash had given him. Well. What the hell.

“Okay, asshole, so…”


End file.
